


The Walls Around Him

by jb_slasher



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Chelsea - Freeform, M/M, Prisoner of War, There Is Still Hope, World War III
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-20
Updated: 2005-06-20
Packaged: 2017-11-10 07:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jb_slasher/pseuds/jb_slasher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lenny is still waiting for rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Walls Around Him

**Author's Note:**

> Post-WWIII football RPS AU.

The cell is too small. Not that anyone else cares, except him. They're keeping him separate from the other inmates, though he thinks 'victims' would be a more appropriate word to use. They're probably planning to either execute or question him soon. The Coalition prefers actions to words, or so he hopes at least... Lenny has lost most of his hope of surviving this, has lost most of his faith in the rebellion, in them risking their necks to save him. He's no one important really, he just happened to get caught.

Three weeks in this little cubicle and Lenny is going insane. Thank God he has that little window, but is it really of any help when all he can see are people surrounded by barbwire fences, with guards grabbing them, hitting them, using them to create their own fun? Some days they come to roughen him up as well, but most of the time he's left alone, forgotten without food or water. He's lost a lot of weight but he's not in bad shape yet, not as bad as some of the others... _most_ of the others are. He was a football player once after all, in better shape than the average human being. He misses those days now, those days when everything used to be simple and fun... It's a whole other world to get lost into.

All these people... they used to have lives, didn't they? They used to have families, used to have friends and lovers. He knows Scott's here, has seen him a couple of times lounging in Lenny's field of vision. He's probably still holding onto their relationship. Lenny's not sure how long Scott's been here. He heard Scott got captured but he can't remember when that was. It seems he's been here for years already. He can't pinpoint anything anymore, doesn't know if it's Monday or Wednesday.

Lenny reckons they let Scott rot in a cell just like this one. Scott was a part of Lenny's squad. Well, it wasn't exactly Lenny's squad, he was just a navigator. Doesn't matter, though. Since they were rebels, they got captured and imprisoned. Who knows how many weeks they kept Scott in here. But he pulled through. He probably managed to convince them he knew nothing or told them everything he knew. Lenny doesn't know which is the most probable option, doesn't want to think about it. He likes to believe Scott did the right thing, but there are no guarantees and he can't exactly call out to Scott from here and ask; too many risks and the idea too ridiculous to begin with.

Sometimes Lenny stares out of the window and thinks he sees someone he knows. A childhood friend - still a little kid - here, his Mom there... John, his squad leader on the other side of the barbwire fence, looking straight at him. He knows he's seeing things. If John had been caught, Lenny would know about it. His Mom's safe, he made sure of it; the rebellion has its safety nets around the globe, in places The Coalition can't reach. He didn't go with her although she would have wanted him to. No, he had been on a mission and he had been determined to accomplish it. Then Scott got caught and Lenny had contacted The Center - what they call "the Rebel Communication Center" - for instructions on how to proceed. The Center had given him an address and told him to go there to wait for further instructions.

Lenny didn't know how The Coalition had figured it out, but three weeks ago the house had been raided, Lenny had been discovered and Petr had been shot on the spot. Petr who was considered to be high up the ladder in The Coalition, Petr who was hiding a rebel in his home, fully aware of who Lenny was, of what Lenny was. But Petr didn't care about any of it, he just cared about Lenny and their friendship. Lenny had only been able to stare at Petr's body, couldn't fathom that he was dead, couldn't even scream because all the air had left his lungs. Someone must have ratted him out. There was no point in trying to figure out who could've done it. Petr was dead and that was the end of it.

Lenny stares at the steel door seven feet ahead, leaning on the brick wall. The room is cold and moist, and Lenny keeps shivering and running his fingers through his hair as if to check that it hasn't fallen off. He thinks about the good old days a lot now. It's hard to believe that there once was a time when he could walk free on the streets of London with Scott, without having to worry about another mission, another raid, another day... Days when he could just lie in bed - on a mattress, for fuck's sake - and wake Scott up with a kiss, or just watch him in his sleep.

Lenny lets out a deep sigh. His thoughts aren't helping. He should probably be thinking about how he's going to avoid giving valuable information to The Coalition or how he could try to escape or anything like that. Instead he pines over what was and he hates himself for getting slightly hard remembering those times. Scott's so near and still so far away. Neither of them can help the situation without at least the other one getting killed. Lenny doesn't want Scott dead, and he doesn't think Scott would appreciate him dying either.

One night Lenny looks out of his barred window as usual but tonight there is movement and rustling in the dark. At first he thinks it's Scott who's managed to escape somehow, coming to rescue him and take him away. _No, it's John, it's gotta be! He's come to rescue us!_ His hopes are raised for that little while until it scampers into the moonlight: a dog.


End file.
